


The End of Antibiotics

by Kaatosade



Series: The Greatest Adventure [1]
Category: One Piece
Genre: Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-03-04
Updated: 2017-03-04
Packaged: 2018-09-28 06:06:25
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,220
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10075706
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Kaatosade/pseuds/Kaatosade
Summary: Now Law was sixteen; he was alive and looking like a new-born foal with lanky limbs.(10 years before The Greatest Adventure)





	

**Author's Note:**

> I was working with the Greatest Adventure when this head-canon just popped into my mind and it felt like it somehow belonged into the story. So I'm making this a series.
> 
> There's an OC pirate crew in the story but that's not very important. It's a story of a meeting. I hope you like it. I personally think Law's awkwardly cute as a teenager. :)

A pencil sharpener, an eraser and three pencils were being swapped around on the table by Law, who was practising using his ability. It was easy enough to swap two items with each other, but the task got exponentially more difficult if the amount of artifacts was increased. He needed to keep track of original and final placements of every single item, deciding what was to be replaced by what, and his mind needed training for that sort of use.

At the moment five items seemed to be the maximum amount he could handle. If he tried to add the sixth one, he immediately got a blinding headache, losing his control altogether.

He felt drained already. Just maintaining a Room spent energy, not to mention _doing_ something in it. It was unpleasant, but there was no way he would learn control without practising; he just needed to be careful so as not to overdo it.

Like _that time_ – the thought of being bedridden for days because of exhaustion didn't tempt him much, never again...

One of the pencils stopped moving, even though that was not Law's intention. He shouldn't think of anything except what he was doing, otherwise his concentration would break.

He gave a deep sigh, letting all of the items fall onto the table. He tried to concentrate by staring at the sharpener for a while, then proceeded trying to lift it without touching it, just directing it with the movements of his fingers. It felt like it weighed a ton, like the effort would lever his brain out of his skull, but finally the sharpener really started to rise.

"TRAFALGAR!"

The shout startled Law to jump up from his chair. His Room disappeared without his consent, collapsing like a balloon poked with a needle. He turned towards the door of the sick bay, where doctor Tynos – AKA That Drunk Old Goat – was standing, arms crossed.

"Just how many times I need to tell you to stop that playing around before you hear me?" Tynos asked. "We've finally arrived at a harbour, so scurry off and buy some antibiotics for me. We're out of them, again."

There were so many thoughts colliding violently in Law's head, he was incapable of voicing any of them.

_Don't order me around._

_I'm not PLAYING AROUND._

_Perhaps those antibiotics would last a little longer if you wouldn't be a moron and prescribe them because of every fucking cold, which could be cured simply by resting a bit. That's some irresponsible and unhealthy doctoring._

_I'm a much better doctor than you are._

_I'm so fucking done with all of this._

Law felt like being suffocated by the mass of sentences stuck in his throat. Tynos clapped his hands, continuing, "So, get going now. Hurry up!"

For a moment Law was sure he would pass out just because of being so royally pissed off. His glare made Tynos step backwards to the door, where he told that he was waiting for new medicine before quickly shutting the door.

Law was left to give the finger to the closed door.

Three years ago, hiding aboard this ship had felt like a great idea. His life had been wrecked – _again_ – and he had needed a place, where he would be pretty safe while trying to collect the shards. Trying to practise using his ability, planning what to do next.

A pirate ship was pretty much the only place he could go to. Being so young, he couldn't wander around the North Blue all alone, so he had enlisted as an assistant after finding a crew that seemed suitable.

As a name, 'the Arctic Fox Pirates' sounded so incredibly stupid; Law would have remembered it had he heard it even once. It was one of the reasons he had enlisted – even though he had heard countless discussions about Doflamingo's trading partners, rivals and enemies while sitting by the man's table, this crew had never been mentioned. It felt like an ideal solution to hide among a crew that was sailing in different areas than Doflamingo and wasn't considered worthy of any kind of attention.

Law had immediately been accepted as a doctor's assistant, which had felt like an ideal thing too, but...

Fuck, he just couldn't take it anymore.

It had worked in the beginning; he had been in such a state of shock that he was grateful, if he only had a chance to crawl into any hole where Doflamingo wasn't able to find him. The sick bay was cosy and he would get some practise in medicine, of course such a thing would be welcome.

Too bad it didn't take a lot of time to see that Tynos was a lousy doctor, downright dangerous to his patients, and preferred to concentrate on medicating his own boredom with alcohol. Everything else could be treated with painkillers and antibiotics. The worst thing was that Tynos didn't listen to reason. There had been countless times when Law had been forced to change the patients' meds while Tynos wasn't watching, in order to them to work like they should.

Nowadays there were many people who visited the sick bay only if Tynos had managed to pass out, leaving Law in charge. Acknowledging his skills was stroking Law's ego the right way, but tolerating That Drunk Old Goat was becoming increasingly more difficult. That he was supposed to respect Tynos as an authority... there just was no way in fucking hell.

He had realized having problems as deep as an ocean with authorities, as it was. Authorities always made him want to flip them off and do the exact opposite they had told him to do.

After being told to go ashore, rising from the chair tasted particularly bitter, but truth to be told, going ashore was a tempting idea. Law missed having some solid ground under his feet, and they needed more medicine from a pharmacy than those never-ending antibiotics. Of course That Drunk Old Goat wasn't aware of what was in his medicine store, he hadn't noticed that they would soon run out of antiseptics and cough syrup.

Law marched into his own cabin, right next to the sick bay. It was very small, probably meant for stocking some supplies and not for someone to reside in, but he didn't care. It was the place where it was guaranteed he got to be alone if he wished so – which happened remarkably often – and it wasn't cramped enough to induce claustrophobia. Unless it was a bad moment. But during moments like that having any kind of walls around him was too much, regardless of how spacious the room was.

He started to rummage his wardrobe in order to find some clothes that would fit. There was a mirror on the interior side of the door, and once again seeing his own reflection made him freeze. That was something he would never get used to, so he believed.

He had stopped growing after turning ten. The Amber Lead had strenghtened its hold of him; just fighting the poison and staying alive had drained all of his resources. Even after he had managed to cure himself, his growth had been stunted. He had resigned to think that his hormone system probably was irreparably ruined by the Amber Lead Syndrome, dooming him to remain child-sized for the rest of his life.

He had been almost fifteen when his body had suddenly awakened from its state of shock, noticing he would live after all and pushing him through puberty so fast he still hadn't caught on. If sleeping had been really difficult before, because of chronic insomnia and constant nightmares, it became almost impossible when growing pains were added to the equation. Luckily That Drunk Old Goat was so ignorant and didn't notice that some sleeping pills and painkillers kept vanishing from his stock.

Now Law was sixteen; he was alive and looking like a new-born foal with lanky limbs.

It was a complete shock to suddenly reach almost 190 centimeters, and he was still growing, even though the pace was luckily slowing down. He felt like he was nothing more than some long and thin arms and legs; a clumsy stranger in his own body.

Of course all of his clothes were always too small. He sighed, watching his too short pant legs, and then decided it would be best if he willingly rolled them up a bit, like he was just trying to show off his groovy boots. The hoodie wasn't so hopeless; he was always tugging their sleeves in order to cover his freezing fingers, so they tended to get stretched.

He didn't feel gorgeous as he took his bag and went ashore. Luckily he wasn't going to socialize, just to stock up some medicine and look around.

~*~

Rinkan was some repulsive island. It wasn't much of a surprise for Law, because these days every island seemed repulsive to him. Obviously he hated the whole world. He wasn't particularly delighted if he was told that was an essential part of teenage angst and thus perfectly normal, either.

There was absolutely nothing normal in his life.

If only he had gotten to enjoy just some common teenage angst. For a little moment he allowed himself to imagine what it could have been like, if, _if_ and IF. Quarreling with his parents because he had come home too late, having lost himself in cuddling with his sweetheart. Lami would be a pest, and one of her friends would develop an awkward crush on him – that was what friends of little sisters always did, right? And the biggest crisis in his life would be him apparently not being heterosexual like most people were. He would stay up many nights, pondering his grand problem; whether he would dare to reveal considering both genders attractive. He would read some pining literature dealing with the issue. Perhaps he would write a couple of poems about it, feeling like he was a very sensitive and emotional individual.

That would have been what you would call teenage angst. In reality his life sucked a hell of a lot more badly.

There were times when he wished that he had never realized how to use his Ope Ope Power. Just letting that fever burn him to nothing, and there would have been no need for him to go through anything at all again. Ever.

_Stop it. You're alive. And you have a mission to accomplish._

He had been repeating these words by himself so often they had turned into some kind of a mantra, whose actual meaning was starting to disappear, but repeating it still managed to stop his pressing thoughts at times.

For a moment.

He still hated Rinkan. There was some kind of political conflict going on, the news hadn't succeeded in finding out much details of it. For an outsider it manifested as an unnaturally large amount of law enforcers and as a ban for anyone else to pack weapons. Some ladies gossiping by fruit stands were half-heartedly complaining about the situation, until moving on and starting to brag of their childrens' musical interests. They sounded so fucking stupid and trivial, it made Law want to kick them.

Of course he didn't. But he was about to choke on disbelievingly contemptuous misanthropy while striding by, and seriously, since when he had even been _walking_ this quickly? His legs were way too long. Perhaps the thing he hated the most was himself.

He turned to another street, wallowing in these thoughts. He was constantly trying to get towards the center of the island, hoping to find a pharmacy somewhere on the way, but instead of a pharmacy it was a fight he had found.

Three guys against... a polar bear?

A polar bear wearing pants and a coat like any human being. Standing on its hindlegs, wearing tiny heeled boots. Apparently it had a great taste when it came to shoes.

Oo-kay.

"I don't want to hurt you, so leave me alone," the bear said. Its voice was low, somehow dejected.

Law was about to fall on his ass because of being so stupefied, but he also noticed a sturdy collar that one of the guys was holding. The group was trying to put it on the bear. Law didn't know what the fuck was going on here, but he didn't like what it looked like. If the bear talked, it clearly was a _person_ and not some beast you catch and put on a leash.

"Nuh-uh, don't be like that now," said the man waving the collar. That kind of tone was most commonly heard in situations involving an intoxicated man with low intelligence, and a girl, who wanted to be at least five kilometers away from the first mentioned. It used to make Law see red.

"I think I heard how you just got rejected, so get lost," he said, stepping forward from his place by the wall.

The group looked at him, bursting into laughter, until starting to wonder what to do to him.

"No one wants to buy a spindling like that one anyway," one of them said.

Slavers. How awesome. Law didn't even know why he was so surprised, he should have been expecting something like this with his inexclicably terrible luck, even if human trafficking wasn't a very common business hereabouts. He know he didn't look like much of a good, there definitely were a lot of spindly and pissed teenaged boys in the world; but a talking polar bear was the whole another story. A rarity.

"He's kind of cute, perhaps we could just keep him?" another guy suggested.

Law's stomach was turning in a nauseating way. For a moment he considered if he should cut off the dicks of those scums and push them into their asses, but actually he didn't want to touch those body parts even that much. Nor did he want to reveal his Power to these scumbags, thus making clear he was pretty much more valuable than what he looked like.

"Or what if I just kill all of you?" he suggested. "I believe that would be a nifty way to solve your dilemma."

That had the slavers practically howling with laughter. The bear, in its part, had apparently decided to consider Law as an ally in this situation, because it came closer, turning its back towards him a bit, clearly ready to fight together.

Finally the slavers decided to capture both of them now and think what to do with them later. The trio attacked at the same time.

It wasn't what you would call a fight. Law realized immediately that the bear hadn't needed his help at all to escape this, nor had it made any empty threats. It knew kung fu. Law himself only had time to deliver one strike to the jaw of an attacker before the whole encounter was over.

It was a damn satisfactory hit nonetheless, despite his hurting hand.

He and the bear were looking at each other, and he didn't have any idea of what it was that strangers used to say to each other in these kind of situations.

"I'm sorry," said the bear.

_What the fuck? Where did that come from?_

Law didn't ask for a clarification. Instead his gaze had suddenly spotted the bear's front paw, hanging limply by its side. The bear hadn't moved it even once during the confrontation despite skillfully using the whole of its body as a weapon; there was only one thing this could mean. "You're hurt," he stated.

"Happened yesterday. What about it?"

"I am a doctor," Law said. He felt the corners of his mouth moving in a weird way and it took a moment before he realized smiling for the first time in who knows how long time.

~*~

Law couldn't very well comprehend how he had ended up in a small room in a tavern with a talking polar bear he had just met. But he couldn't let it go just like that, not after noticing the injury, and he wanted to take care of it in peace. So they had reserved a room, and soon the bear did like it was told to, taking off its coat and revealing its fluffy white fur.

The fur on its upper arm was mainly darkish red, sticky with both dried and fresh blood. It was impossible to see the injury clearly because of hairs being glued together.

"Was this done by the same guys we met today?" Law asked, washing most of the blood out to get a better look at the wound.

"They were from the same group but not the same members."

Law nodded. "What happened?" He was curious and also wanted his patient concentrating on something else than what he was doing. The bear had very sharp teeth and even though it clearly was intelligent, he couldn't help imagining he might get bitten. It wasn't possible to treat an injury like this without some pain.

"There were two of them. One managed to dig his knife into the muscle. They won't do it again, but there are a lot of slavers here."

Law imagined why the slavers from yesterday wouldn't try anything like that ever again, smirking. Not a loss for the mankind.

"It's easy to collect goods here because bearing the arms is banned," the bear added.

"The world is a shitty place." The power gave orders to ensure their own safety without caring of a commoner's possibilities to defend themselves. And common people were only bemoaning the way of the world by the fruit stands, turning their look on themselves and not _doing_ anything at all, like some fucking blind chicken. And there were some utilizing the situation, and Law just hated all of it so fucking much.

The bear didn't say anything to it. Law had rinsed most of the blood out and hairs weren't sticking together anymore, but they were in the way nonetheless. He needed to do something about it.

"Did you eat a Devil's Fruit?" he asked. If that was the case, it clearly was a Zoan-type Power – some type of Kuma Kuma Fruit was his guess – and then the bear should be able to transform into a human again, which would make this a lot easier.

"No, I was born like this."

"Hm." The world might be a shitty place, but it definitely was also a vast and wondrous place. But this wasn't the strangest thing Law had ever seen. "In that case I have to cut off some of your fur so as to see what I'm doing."

"I'm sorry."

"I didn't mean that... argh." Law gave a heavy sigh. "There's nothing wrong with a bear being furry. I meant is that fine for you?"

"It'll grow back," the bear said.

They had walked by a pharmacy while searching for a tavern and Law had hastily bought some equipment he thought he was going to need. He was grateful for being proactive enough to include a razor in his shopping list. It was a suitable tool for the task, and he carefully started to shave the fur near the wound.

"I'm Bepo," the bear said suddenly.

"Law."

"Why did you get involved? You just got loads of enemies."

"I don't care." Law shrugged. "I was in a bad mood. I can't stomach that kind of people. I already had scarier enemies than those ones, so I just don't fucking care. There were some reasons."

He put the razor aside, having shaved a hairless spot around the wound, big enough for him to tape a bandage to the skin. Some more cleaning, and he finally could see what was going on. It was a deep puncture wound in biceps; it definitely would have needed to be stitched yesterday, but it hadn't been done. There were also some hairs in the wound, they had irritated it to fester more than it should have.

"Someone should have done something to this," he said. Anyone was capable of at least cleaning the wound and making some clumsy emergency stitches using some dental floss or whatever, if not anything else, right?

"I'm alone," Bepo said. "I'm sorry."

Law didn't know how to react to constant apologizing. Perhaps it was best to just let it go over his ears. "Well, because it seems it has opened again enough to bleed, I guess it's best if I stitch it even though it's pretty late for that. This is going to feel like shit."

They didn't talk as Law really started working with the wound. Bepo was watching out of the window, trying to concentrate on something else, at times letting out some a bit dog-like whines that sounded absurdly endearing to Law. He himself concentrated on thinking while his hands were working almost by themselves.

What should he do next? By getting involved in the fight he had placed himself in a situation that was complex and bitchy in every way.

First of all, he had a patient now, and he felt like he was responsible of Bepo until it – _he_ , Law decided – had healed. He didn't allow convalescents to leave his care, the least of all in situations like this when there was a high risk of severe inflammation. But he couldn't stay on Rinkan for days, playing doctor, nor could he take Bepo with him aboard his ship.

Secondly there were the slavers, with whom he had happened to pick fight. He didn't feel like getting the Arctic Fox Pirates involved with it, they had nothing to do with that quarrel. The Arctic Fox Pirates was a pretty lousy crew, lacking any kind of real fighting power, which probably was the main reason they hadn't piqued Doflamingo's interest in any way. They didn't need a confrontation with a who knew how big gang of slavers.

Then there was the little fact that Law suspected being finally so fed up that he was liable to push a syringe of antibiotics into That Drunk Old Goat's eye, if he tried to order him around even once more in his life.

Staying with the Arctic Fox Pirates had never been his intention. He had meant it to be a temporary solution until he could come up with something else, being ready to leave on his own. For some time it had felt like he had just been waiting for a final push to do just that.

Was it this?

This was insane and impulsive, but somehow it felt like Bepo calmed him down, making him a bit less angry. He was already feeling more connection with Bepo than the people with whom he had been sailing for the last three years.

"I'm a pirate," he finally started.

Bepo turned to look at Law closely with his round black eyes, not disapproving the choice of occupation at least. "Captain?" Bepo asked.

"Nope." Not at the moment at least, but Law had definitely been thinking of it. Especially after finally going through puberty he had started to think that perhaps being a captain was the only position in which he would feel comfortable. "Why the heck that was your first guess? Almost anyone would have thought I'm too young to be one."

"You feel like a captain, I can feel it."

A statement like that was definitely stroking Law's very damaged ego the right way. It also made making a decision more clear. He could always try.

"I'm a doctor's assistant at the moment, but I've been planning starting my own crew. It just hasn't been the right moment for that."

"Must be nice," Bepo mused in a melancholic tone. "Belonging to some crew."

Law hadn't dared to even wish for such a promising answer, so clearly tentative hopefulness. It felt like they were thinking of the same thing, but he had to say it aloud.

"If I decided to do it right now, would you come with me?" he asked.

Bepo smiled. At least Law thought that look was a smile, but it was difficult to be sure with that muzzle. It was a damn sharp-toothed smile. "Aye-aye, captain!"

"Oi, be still! I'm not done with these millions of stitches."

"I'm sorry," Bepo said, looking like he was downright curling into himself.

_Geez. I guess it's best if I just get used to that._

~*~

It didn't matter if the civilians were banned from carrying weapons; Law didn't believe even for a moment that you couldn't buy a weapon on Rinkan. There was always someone selling them – you learned that kind of things if you spent some years with a psychopath capable of killing his own brother; the kind of psychopath who had a bywork dealing with underground weapons trade.

Using these lessons it took Law no time to find himself in a store of a decent looking shoe shop. The seller opened a few wooden boxes, revealing a set of different kind of swords for Law to see. He was sure that boots on the shelves were hiding quite an assortment of pistols and such inside of them.

Law liked edged weapons, so some kind of sword felt like a good choice. So far he had used whatever he managed to grab when he got into a fight, but now it felt like it was necessary to get a decent blade that would feel his own. People expected a bit different role of you in a fight if you were a doctor's assistant or a captain.

His gaze kept sliding over the weapons. Katanas, sabers, rapiers, longswords... A katana might be nice. He had tried them a few times and they had felt good in his hands.

He snorted, his gaze forcibly stopping at one of the things resting among the others in its black scabbard, ornated by white crosses. Seriously, who would want to buy a nodachi so absurdly long? Was it meant to compensate a small dick? How was that thing even carried, definitely not on hips.

"Try one, otherwise you never know," the seller encouraged.

Some kind of sick curiosity made Law grab the nodachi. His palm was tingling as he touched the scabbard, like something was _awakening_ inside of it. It was surely just his overly vivid imagination, so he lifted the sword from the box; it felt balanced despite its weight.

Then he heard it.

It was screaming soundlessly, like his own heart. The thing was full of that feeling when you have a nightmare of screaming and screaming and screaming until your throat is torn to shreds, still unable to produce any kind of sound.

"That's Kikoku," said the seller. "But it's a bit long even for you."

Law would have appreciated it if the seller hadn't referenced his height, he knew all too well he was a spindling, thank you very much. Anyway, he had no intention to buy _that_ one. It had to be cursed. He was creeped by the absurd fact that he felt cohesion with a _sword_ ; it just suited a bit too well.

In the end he chose a katana in a beautiful pearl grey scabbard, asking for delivering it to the tavern room where Bepo was waiting. It sounded like the seller had his way to sneak the weapons to their new owners, because they couldn't be carried out of the shop just like that.

He couldn't help noticing that the katana he had chosen had felt disturbingly... lifeless in his hand, when compared to the cursed blade. It was insane. A sword was a tool and that was all there was to it, there was no need for you to feel some deep emotional connection with that.

He resolutely pushed those thoughts aside. There was much to do before midnight.

~*~

Captain Malon didn't say much when Law searched him, telling that he would leave. There wasn't much room for arguments, because Law had foreseen this moment before even boarding the ship for the first time, joining the crew with the special condition that he would be free to go whenever he pleased.

Malon was a man of his word and a pretty decent guy otherwise, too, and wasn't trying to keep Law from going. Without Malon's terrible naming sense Law could have almost respected him. Who ever named his whole crew according to his own Devil's Fruit Power, for real? There was no way Law was ever going to lead some fucking Ope Ope Pirates.

"What are you going to do from now on?" Malon asked.

"That's not your problem," Law answered. "If I were you, I would concentrate on finding a new doctor or at least an assistant as soon as possible..."

A big galleon full of pretty weak pirates, and That Drunk Old Goat as an only doctor – that sounded like a recipe for a total disaster. But actually it wasn't Law's problem anymore. He had quite enough of his own problems.

Malon gave a good-natured laugh, saying he would think of it and wishing him all the best.

Law was surprised by how many crewmembers appeared on the deck to say goodbye or at least wave at him. He hadn't believed anyone would bother with it. He had kept his distance, and wasn't anything more than that creepy jinx sulking in the sick bay - and there they were anyways.

"I won't forget you treating my broken leg!" one of them shouted.

"And my fingers!"

"And my coughing!"

"We're gonna miss you!"

Law's throat felt tighter than he had expected. He didn't trust his voice, settling for bowing as some kind of gesture of gratitude before swinging his meager luggage onto his shoulder and starting towards the tavern.

There was a curfew at night on Rinkan, but it wasn't hard to avoid the law enforcers patrolling the streets. Law had way too much time to think whether Bepo was waiting for him or if he had came to his senses and decided to leave alone. Why on earth anyone would want to follow _Law_?

It seemed he wasn't the only one wrestling with those kind of feelings of uncertainty, for the first thing Bepo said after opening the door for him was, "I seriously didn't think you'd come."

They were laughing a bit at their stupidity. Law couldn't remember when was the last time he had been laughing aloud.

"This thing was delivered... are we going to ski?" Bepo asked, pointing at a bag holding some skiing equipment on the floor.

Law stared at it for a moment until realizing. "Oh, there must be my new sword in it. Could you please carry it, my hands are already full?"

Bepo swang the bag on his unwounded shoulder, and then they were running through nocturnal Rinkan. Law almost wished for meeting with the law enforcers just to get a chance to sweep them aside, because suddenly he was feeling like nothing could stop him from stealing a small ship and starting his very own journey.

He was sixteen; he was alive and after a long while he also _felt_ like he was alive. He glanced at Bepo, dashing beside him, and flashed what had to be pretty manic smile at him. Bepo answered with a beast-like sharp-toothed grin, and Law really would have loved to see some idiot trying to stop them.

Bepo had spent long enough time on the island to know where the slavers had their camp and a couple of small ships hidden. Stealing a ship from some poor fisher would have felt like a wrong thing to do, but slavers were another story. A thought of stealing from them gave Law nothing but satisfaction.

They ended up by the shore, a good distance away from the main camp but close enough to see three vessels anchored in a small bay.

"What do you wanna do, captain?" Bepo asked. "Destroy the whole camp or swim to the ships and take one before anyone sees us?"

Destroying the camp would have felt like an appealing idea, if Law had known the amount of slavers waiting for them and Bepo hadn't been wounded to begin with. Right now it would be a too stupid move. "The latter would be a better option... but I can't swim."

Bepo stared at him.

"A Devil's Fruit," he explained.

Some day he might be able to move a distance like this by using it. In theory it should have been possible for him to swap himself with the air in some spesific place, kind of teleport, but he hadn't been able to pull the trick off even once. He couldn't even create a Room big enough to reach the ships. He should become a lot stronger before he could do it. Right now the Power was only a pain in the neck, not helping him reach his goal but slowing him down.

However, he had Bepo, who stated he couldn't be heavy. Soon he found himself hunching on the bear's wide back, holding all of their luggage in his arms as Bepo was swimming towards the ships effortlessly. The wound didn't seem to bother Bepo, but Law should change the wet bandage after they got away from the island.

They were climbing over the railing as silently as possible, and the guy guarding the ship with the help of bottle of booze never realized what hit him, as Law stroke his nape with the back of his hand and precision of a surgeon. Bepo threw the man turned into a limp pile overboard.

A quick survey later they were sure there was no one below the deck, so they set sail.

~*~

In the wee hours they had anchored their ship to get some rest. The ship was swaying on the waves much more than the big galleon of the Arctix Fox Pirates, and Law knew he was going to hate this bitterly, but taking a bigger ship than the two of them were able to handle would have been an idiotic thing to do.

"We need to find some more members. And a better ship," he said, spooning some pretty horrid canned soup with which the oppressively small galley had been loaded.

"How big crew you've been thinking?" Bepo asked.

"Not very. Enough to get all jobs done nicely and have some strenght, but I want all of us fitting in one vessel and I want to personally know everyone." Commanding a fleet of several ships didn't appeal to Law any. "Ten, twenty, something like that?"

"That sounds nice."

They would run into some suitable ones before long, like Law had run into Bepo. At this moment it was easy to believe.

After eating Bepo straigtened himself onto the deck, starting to watch stars. Law opened the bag of skiing gear at last. There were some ancient broken skis and ski poles for show, and packed among them was his new weapon.

It was an overly long nodachi sleeping in its black scabbard, ornated by white crosses. When he lifted it from among the damaged skiing gear, it felt like it was screaming somewhere on the border of his consciousness.

He couldn't even bring himself to be the least bit surprised.

Had the seller switched the swords purposefully or was this some kind of trick of the cursed sword? In the very end it didn't matter much. It seemed like Kikoku had taken a liking to him and he didn't believe he would very easily get rid of its creepy company.

He hadn't imagined the start of his journey to be like this, but he did have a way too small ship, a talking polar bear and a cursed sword nonetheless.

"If you're cold, you're welcome to lean against me," Bepo said.

Law pondered for a long while what to do. He didn't much care of physical contact, he was downright avoiding it, but he _was_ cold and Bepo had clearly noticed his starting shivering. And he hadn't felt very awkward while sitting on Bepo's back during the swimming trip, probably because he wasn't a human being...

_Maybe this one time._

He sat by Bepo, leaning his back against Bepo's side. It was very warm and very fluffy, rising and falling in the rhythm of deep breathing. Bepo was breathing a bit slower than a human which was soothing, it made Law calm down to the same rhythm without meaning to.

Law managed to place Kikoku leaning comfortably against his shoulder, it was probably best to start getting used to it, and leaned back more lethargically until he was watching the sky. He hadn't remembered the stars being so bright and so close.

This might not be the way he had planned starting his own crew, but this wasn't half bad.

There would be a long, long way to go before he could consider himself as healthy, that wouldn't happen before the agent that had destroyed his life would be defeated once and for all; and it was perfectly possible that he wouldn't live to enjoy the result. But at least he had now finished his first-aid treatment by antibiotics, and it was time to start building his resistance again in order to fight properly.

He was going to do it; this was the beginning.


End file.
